Everything Is Better When They Kiss
by TrippinOverMyFandoms
Summary: It's the moments that never happened. The ones they denied. The ones that can exist sepretly in differnt moments in these chapters. A kiss that never got to happen. A series of canon divergences in no particular order set through all 6 seasons.
1. An Introduction

**Welcome to my second collection of Slade and Oliver short stories (I swear I ship Olicity too). Unlike Swords and Arrows, which is a series of various AUs and short what-ifs, this will be a collection of canon divergences. In which everything will go according to canon up until a certain point. From there I'll add some sort of kiss. Some may be long, some may be short, some may have a glimps into the future. Where ever my brain takes me and whatever I manage to get out, I hope those of you who ship the two enjoy this compilation of short stories.**


	2. 5x23 - I need your help

The last time he was here, the man he had come to see was a monster he didn't recognize. He hoped now that the past years had left him more sane and this wasn't a mistake. That he could rely on the old friend he once knew.

The door swings open a little freer than he thought. Oliver isn't sure if the man knows he's there or that it's him, if he mistakes him for a guard, because there isn't movement.

When he crosses the doorway he drops the bag he had been carrying down on the floor and proceeds slowly. He's closes the distance about halfway and stops, taking a deep breath. It's hard to look at him. Knowing it's all his fault. He did this to him.

He's trying to think of what to say as he runs his thumb over his forefinger, a quirk of his. He had it planned in his head before he came down here. He had even replayed it over and over in his head on the play ride to the island to begin with. It was something efficient followed by an empty threat to keep him in line but at the same time a plea. All that left as he stood here now.

"I need your help." He settles on. It's a miracle that his voice doesn't waver, he feels like he's shaking but maybe he isn't. And if he is it's because all his friends are in danger as well as his son and not just because of being here.

It seems like eternity before Oliver gets a response.

"Hey kid,"

He almost misses it. He was too caught up in his nerves and what was going on elsewhere, if everyone was safe for now or if someone was already dead.

"I'm glad you came back."

The sudden moment of Slade turning his head to face him almost startles Oliver. Looking at him now, face to face, he once again can feel the weight of all the things he's responsible for. Yet something about him is different. Unlike who he had encountered three years ago and much unlike the last time he was here only two years ago. Almost like the man he had met ten years ago except more broken.

That familiar part puts him momentarily in a good place, a place of better memories and simpler times. Yet it's quickly washed away by the realization he's the reason it's not that way anymore.

"What brought you back to the island?" Slade questions as he stands up, gaze never leaving Oliver. A look the blonde thought he'd never feel on him again. One that felt like he looked into his soul and at his heart, almost trying to read his mind by the look on his face and the way he stood.

"Like I said," he answers slowly. It takes him a second to close the distance between himself and the bars that divide the two to unlock the iron prison. He drops his gaze to the key in his hand.

As soon as he hears the lock click he looks back up and finishes his sentence, "I need your help." In the most determined and stern way possible yet still pleading, something he guessed would be near what he had made up earlier.

"What the hell is going on here?" Comes another voice. One Oliver doesn't recognize and he's guessing it's an ARGUS agent. No, he doesn't guess, he knows, and is met with just that as he turns around.

"We have a problem and I need you to get off the island." Oliver practically demands of the guard, not wanting him to get in the way or die because of his war with Chase.

The guard quickly responds with, "I'm not going anywhere, and neither is he." Gesturing towards Slade with his head. Oliver had to hand it to the guy, he was loyal.

"I'm taking him and I'm taking Digger Harkness," he keeps his tone calm yet in charge like as he speaks, "there's an ARGUS supply boat docked on the Eastern Shore, you take it and you go."

The guard is still not moving. "I'm not leaving my post."

Oliver really doesn't want to have to leave him here but if he has to lock him in the cell for his own safety he will. "Suit yourself." He says, just before punching the guy to knock him out.

He watches as he falls to the floor but his attention is snagged when he hears the iron door behind him creak. Slade has exited the cell and now there's nothing between him.

The way Slade slowly exits his prison is almost pitiful. Hell, for the man who he used to be it is. He seems unsure and, if Oliver is reading it right, seems like he thinks he's unworthy to leave or like he can't believe it.

He takes a few steps forward and Oliver resists the urge to step back, knowing if he outwardly showed distrust or how unsure he was then perhaps Slade wouldn't help him.

He expects an attack almost yet one doesn't come. It would be so easy for him to rush at him, pin him to the ground and retrieve the katana from the bag he brought in and just end him. Yet it doesn't happen. Instead Slade asks, "Care to explain what's going on?"

And he seems normal. Or, normal for Slade anyways. He's not Deathstroke. Oliver can see it in his eyes and there's no bloodlust or any kind of craze. Not one that's evident anyway but he tries not to think about that. He seems almost like himself again. Like the man who threatened to slit his throat the day they met.

They had both changed drastically since then.

Slade had been a man who wanted to go home and was determined to do so but at the same time was sarcastic and could make a joke if the time was right. Yet he was also serious and down to earth. A pessimist at times maybe.

Oliver had been a child. He may have been 22 but he knew he was no more than a little kid caught up in his own little world. He must have been so annoying back then. Someone who would make his current self cringe to no end.

"I'd like to talk about you for a minute." Oliver says, his voice almost quiet and he's worried he whispered it. He's expecting something to come after it but words never come. He simply stands there staring and Slade seems patient enough to wait on him.

Damn had he missed Slade.

The sleepless nights on this very island where they swapped stories to pass the time. As well as the nights sleep came but in the form of nightmares for one or the other or a bone chilling cold that had them in the same bed.

The days Oliver found himself a completely different person. The ones where Slade taught him various things in the field outside the plane.

The simpler times when all they had to worry about was one of Fyres' patrols discovering their location instead of a murderer threading to kill everyone he cared about.

The days before the Mirakuru.

He's not sure what brought it on, what made his feet move forward so fast. He's not sure what made him pull Slade closer to him him. Not sure what made him close the space between their faces and make their lips meet. Perhaps it was the feelings the memories resurfaced. All he knew was that Slade hadn't pulled away, hadn't pushed him back in anger. Instead he was greeted with a momentary hesitation followed by returned pressure from the other man's lips and hands on his waist.

This was not only the start of the end of a war but the possible beginning of something he had thought impossible and kept himself away from for so, so long. And who better to make it all happen with?


End file.
